Unhappily and Everafter
by StrawberryTigress
Summary: Not your average fairytale. Be aware of a story full of twists, turns, forbidden love, and almighty war, a land where Chris is king, and Izzy is your average insane, meddling fairy godmother. Ch.5 up! Tyler escapes from jail amongst other things...
1. Chapter 1

**Hi, this is StrawberryTigress here, finally out of school (Darn school! lol!) and back in business. Oh well, let me begin to describe this story. This is not your average fairytale, not at all. Be aware of lots of plot twists, unexpected secrets, and some canon and crack pairings! Involves the use of characters not normally used. Loosely based on William Makepeace Thackeray's The Rose and the Ring (love that book). I don't own TDI (duh) or The Rose and the Ring, so don't sue. Really, you won't get any money at all, people. Okay, on to the story! I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

Dear reader,

I have been charged with writing down the history of the Kingdom of Wawanakwa (now known as the Free Republic of Wawanakwa, which is ironically a dictatorship), and I came across this most interesting chapter in this nation's long and depressing history. Due to history being the world's most boring subject (second only to Russian Literature), I've decided to write down this important period in history in story form. Maybe one person might even read this first chapter without even falling asleep! As a dedicated authoress and researcher, I surely hope so.

Best regards,

StrawberryTigress

* * *

**Foreword**

Our story begins hundreds of thousands of years ago on the isolated little island nation of Wawanakwa. Or maybe the nation of Wawanakwa is situated on a peninsula? Unfortunately I am not sure, and strangely the few citizens that live there now are also unsure. Hmm… But anyway, I'm sure that Wawanakwa was a fine country under the reign of King Chris I, otherwise known (to himself) as Chris The Most Popular, Handsome, Best Haired, and Shiniest Toothed King of All Time (which historians now claim as a clear example of King Chris' huge ego, but I digress).

Now King Chris was "blessed" with one daughter, the lovely and accomplished Princess Courtney. How lovely and accomplished the princess actually **_was _**is up to some debate, but we shall go into more detail about her later. Also King Chris had a royal manservant (or maybe royal maidservant is more accurate since the man was forced to wear women's clothing on many occasions) named Chef Hatchet. Little is known about this man except that no historian is sure whether "Chef" is actually his first name, whether he was a real chef, or why he even put up with King Chris for such little pay. Moreover little is known about the King's old consort, presumably the Princess Courtney's mother, but it is suspected that she ran off with a used car salesman. Historians are 99.999% sure that as a result of this action she led a much happier life than if she had stayed with her family.

So this concludes the immediate royal family of Wawanakwa. To be thorough I must point out that there was also one more member of this dysfunctional clan, but he is not important at this point so we shall not discuss him now. But still, King Chris, Princess Courtney, and Chef Hatchet were forced to live together and annoy the crap out of each other and the people around them for many a good year. And they would have probably continued this for many years more until a certain portrait arrived just in time for breakfast for a certain princess.

And this is where our story begins…

* * *

"So _this _is the future king of Boney Island?" Princess Courtney muttered in disgust at the royal breakfast table, tossing the portrait to the side so her royal father could see. "Is this the best they have to offer?"

"Pass me that," King Chris ordered lazily, still munching his morning muffin.

No one moved.

"_**Ahem**_," Chris cleared his throat loudly, and a huge, dark, extremely muscled man dressed in a maid's uniform who just so happened to be standing next to the king, sighed heavily.

"Here…." the huge man growled, and he added under his breath: "Ungrateful little pretty boy…"

"Thank you, Chef," Chris replied cheerfully. "Hmm…" The cheerful king studied the portrait for a moment. "He has green hair. Interesting. What do you think, Chef? Local custom?"

"Local custom?" Princess Courtney shrieked, pushing herself from the table. "Local custom? He looks like a freak with that thing! I will not have him come here! What kind of prince has green hair and piercings for Pete's sake? Can we send an invite back to the Duchess of Winnipeg again? Even though her son had that awful overbite…" The princess shivered in disgust.

"Nuh, uh, uh, Courtney, no can do," Chris wagged his finger in the brunette's face. "It's already been decided between the King of Boney Island and me. You and that prince meet each other…you canoodle… (at this Princess Courtney glared at her father), and you two just _might _decide to join each other in holy matrimony and link our two kingdoms forever----or something like that." The King said this all very nonchalantly, moving his hands around, while the Princess' expression looked more and more dangerous. At the ominous look on her face, even Chef had to take a step back.

"So this is just a ploy to get me and that-that-that _weirdo prince _together so the kingdom can be expanded?" the Princess yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at the King.

"Meh, you can say that," Chris replied slyly.

"If you want territory, why don't we just go to war with them then?" Courtney proposed. There was no way the brunette was going through with her father's selfish little cockamamie scheme, especially one that had the potential to change her entire life. Especially one that involved her marrying some weirdo foreign prince. No way.

"Smarty-pants has a point, you know," Chef Hatchet pointed out, much to the displeasure of Chris. "And besides, Pretty Boy, how can she join our two nations under one crown when she is not even the Crown Princess, because as far as I know, isn't the person whose next in line to the throne Nerdy Bo-"

"No one says his name at the breakfast table!" King Chris interrupted. "Official new rule number 1287254. Chef, go get a scribe so he can write this down!"

"That doesn't make sense," Princess Courtney frowned. "Chef didn't even say his name. He only said--"

"_New rule number 1287254!_ La la la!" Chris yelled in a sing-song voice while putting his hands over his ears and shutting his eyes.

Now unbeknownst to our dysfunctional royal family, they were being watched by a very mysterious, very magical, but very insane personage.

"Yes, yes…" sitting upon a ledge outside the royal breakfast hall, the insane personage rubbed her insane hands together. "My plan is going exactly to plan!"

"Um, Mistress Izzy, woot plan, eh?" another mysterious person, who happened to be perched beside her, asked.

Izzy smiled maniacally. "Only one of the most amazing plans I've ever come up with since I discovered the magical arts nearly two thousand years ago, my faithful toque-wearing servant." With this the redhead rubbed her servant's toque affectionately; her brunet servant nervously bit his lip. "I put the plan into motion sixteen years ago. With this, I shall change the history of the world! Ah, Zeke, this shall be the best thing since the invention of Tabasco sauce!"

"Ookay… Boot I thought the phrase was 'the best thing since the invention of sliced bread, eh?'" Zeke pointed out.

"Oh, I invented sliced bread too, but Tabasco sauce is _soooo _much cooler, you know?"

* * *

**And this is all for chapter one. More about Ezekiel and Izzy's backgrounds in chapter two, plus the last unintroduced member of the royal family. Tell me how you liked it! Thanks! And I was just kidding with the joke about Russian Literature... Ha!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Alright people, I'm back again from the grave. Ha! Back with another installment of Unhappily and Everafter. This chapter is a bit darker than the first, but it will do as the first chapter promised. This chapter will delve into the backgrounds of Izzy and Ezekiel and introduce the final member of the royal family. Their backgrounds just won't be happy. Oh, and more TDI characters! I tend to use the less commonly used characters-or so I hope. **

**Okay, dear reader, carry on please. **

* * *

**Foreword**

To say that Mistress Izzy was the worst fairy godmother in history would be an extremely erogenous mistake. That award, a majority of historians agree, goes to a fairy godmother from the country of Far Far Away of whom a certain ogre had the misfortune to meet-but that, my dear readers, is another story. No, no, Mistress Izzy was hands-down, the most spontaneous, insane, and _**red-haired**_ fairy to have ever flown across the globe in a cart pulled by fire breathing dragons. Although this may sound ludicrous in today's very non-magical society, ancient texts found in remote locations scattered throughout the globe tell of a magical being fitting Mistress Izzy's description. Apparently she would travel from country to country, spreading goodwill and unintentional chaos to all those she visited. In those texts, the personage is given very different names (from Izzy to E-Scope, to even Exploviso in some instances), but historians have pieced together the facts behind these accounts, and we are pretty sure that these people are indeed the same person. Please quote the author as: "Pretty sure."

However, the identity of Mistress Izzy's brunet toque-wearing companion is another story. We are not certain of his exact purpose to our insane fairy or the nature of their relationship, but from various accounts of Mistress Izzy's personality, historians are sure that he was a calm, capable, good natured fellow, with incredible luck in the art of _**surviving**_. But, of course, given the evidence, that is our educated guess. The only things we know for certain about this companion was that he was brunet and toque-wearing.

Now moving along, long ago there was a certain period in history where it was considered fashionable to allow fairies to participate at royal courts. These magical beings were very useful to monarchs, as these magical beings could predict futures, increase harvests, and so on. Many monarchs found that a personal fairy friend who could turn all of your enemies' soldiers into frogs in the next war was a very good friend to have. Eventually almost every fairy with a penchant for fashion and celebrity status would show up for every castle event (balls, christenings, you name it), and swap juicy gossip or stories about their scores of godchildren dotted throughout the countryside. For hundreds of years, this interaction between monarchs and fairies continued until a certain incident involving the fairy Maleficent and the infant princess Aurora. This incident rocked the ancient world_. __**Prick her finger and die? Who knew that fairies could be bad? What if our fairies did that? **_Worry and suspicion spread throughout kingdom after kingdom. Relations between fairies and the common people dulled and soured as everyone realized how much potentially destructive power the average magical being possessed-and how little humans could do to stop them. Fairies began to receive less and less invites to the local palace, and simultaneously they began to become more and more secluded from the human world. The social separation of the human and fairy communities took years (although interaction was more open in other kingdoms), and a whole new generation of humans with barely any experience with fairies appeared. However as this new generation began to have a generation of their own, unfortunately (or not), another being arrived back on earth around the same time as well.

And here is where our story continues...

* * *

"Whew!" Izzy grinned, as she dusted some interstellar residue off her bright green attire. "What a ride! We need to do that one again!" The redhead then shook herself like a dog to get rid of the rest in her hair. Behind her, Ezekiel looked dazed.

"Woot a ride…" the brunet breathed; his eyes still glazed over. This was his first time going comet-riding with Izzy. She had made a pastime lassoing and riding on the back of comets for centuries. '_And she was right_,' Ezekiel mused. Riding barebacked on an object rotating at over 250,000 kilometers an hour beats whatever awe he once had for any bull rider.

"Well, we've got about 75 years 'til that comet comes back this way again, Zeke. But in the meantime, we need to check out what's been happening since we've been gone. C'mon!" The redhead grabbed Ezekiel's arm, and together they advanced upon a formidable looking castle.

"My sources tell me that this party's going to be a real shindig," Izzy breathed. "They might even have cheesy poofs for the guests!"

Ezekiel, however, was reading the large banner hung outside upon the castle walls. "First…birthday…party…for Prince Harold… Um, do we knoo these people, Mistress Izzy?"

"Soon enough, Zekey!" Izzy smiled as she rapped on the castle's tall steel doors.

"Ookay, boot…" Zeke began before he was interrupted by a large blond young man wearing an old suit of armor that comically did not fit his huge body.

"Halt!" the man frowned, looking down upon the two interlopers. "Who goes there?"

"Mistress Izzy Esquire of the Magical Arts…" Izzy saluted. "..and her faithful toque-wearing servant Ezekiel." The redhead added, bringing the reluctant said servant to the front.

At the sight of Zeke's nervous face, the guard's frown vanished instantly. "Oh my gosh! I didn't scare you, did I? It's just that the king has been pushing us all very hard to be tough lately, and the **pressure**, you know? And by the way, name's Owen!" Owen the guard put out a very grubby hand for Ezekiel to shake, and after a moment's pause, Ezekiel shook it.

"We're here for the party," Izzy chimed after shaking Owen's hand as well. "And the cheesy poofs!"

"Cheesy poofs…" Owen's stomach growled. His eyes glazed over for a moment.

"Yeah, you wanna come with?" Izzy asked.

Owen almost nodded with glee until a sense of purpose and determination crossed his face. "I can't," Owen sighed. He stood up straight into a guard's standard position. "I have to stay here and guard the castle doors. As the king always says, you never know **who **may come through these doors when nobody's looking! But…" He squeezed out a tear. "The cheesy poofs…."

"It's ookay, eh?" Zeke reached up to pat Owen's metal shoulder. "We'll being some back for you."

"Or better yet!" exclaimed Izzy. "I can instantly teleport you from here to the ballroom and back. It'll be so fast that no one will ever know."

Owen's eyes brightened instantly. "Really?"

Izzy grinned. "Really, really!" The fairy snapped her fingers.

"Oh, boy, I- Great Scot!" Owen yelled as he realized that he was suddenly in the midst of a large crowed of well-dressed noblemen.

"Fancy, schmancy…" Izzy put her hands on her hips as she looked up at the golden banners hanging from the ballroom's high ceiling and the marble statues of past royalty dotted here and there.

The sudden materialization of three new people into the room failed to grab the attention of the party guests, but their obvious lack of clothing appropriate for a party did. Izzy's bright green skirt and top, Ezekiel's toque and jacket, and Owen's ill-fitting armor stood out badly amongst the deep rich colors of the other's long formal dresses and tuxedos. Pretty soon, a wide circle of murmuring noblemen and women had formed around the three, and that murmuring grew louder and more ominous when Owen gave a sudden cry of "Ham!" and hurried to the feast table.

"I think they're on to us not being real guests, eh?" Ezekiel whispered to Izzy. He had noticed the suspicious eyes of the party guests. "Mistress Izzy?" The brunet looked around. "Izzy?"

"Aww…. How _cuuute_!" a voice rang out from across the hall. Everyone turned around and gasped at what they saw, and even a scream or two could be heard.

Ezekiel sighed and pushed forward to squeeze through the crowd of stiff skirts and formal jackets. "Excuse me… Excuse me, eh!" From his many years of serving the wondrous Mistress Izzy, Zeke could tell when a situation was going to get bad. And this one had the potential to be very, very bad.

The brunet emerged through the front line of frightened guests to reveal Izzy holding a baby with fine wisps of red hair dressed in an ridiculously frilly outfit.

"Ah, look, Zekey!" the redhead laughed. "Isn't he just the cutest?" As if on cue, the baby grinned and drooled upon his own bib.

"Um, Mistress Izzy?" hissed Zeke. "I think you should put him back."

"Aw, but why? Ow!" Izzy whined. The baby was now curiously pulling on her hair.

"Because he's the Crown Prince you psycho hose beast!" cried a raven haired noblewoman to the far right.

"Enough, Heather," a tall man wearing a crown raised his hand to silence the noblewoman. He walked slowly and cautiously towards Izzy.

"Now I would advise you, stranger, to place my son back in his cradle, otherwise my archers will have to go to work today." A tightening of various strings could be heard. Everyone looked around to spot a dozen guards upon the balcony, each poised for a shot.

"My archers are all crack shots," the king went on. "And by the time you fall to the floor, my son will have been caught by a servant; so once again, I will advise you to return my son back to his cradle."

All around the tension could be felt like a dense cloud of wet fog. Even Ezekiel inhaled in suspense although he knew that those arrows had as much ability to harm Izzy as a wad of cotton.

Slowly, Izzy returned the little prince to his cradle. The prince frowned and squirmed as she did so. He didn't want to go back into that stuffy space.

"Good." The king smiled, but the smile did not reach his hard green eyes. He turned his head and studied Izzy's appearance for a moment. He took in the curly red hair, her very inappropriate green dress."Who are you?" he asked. The entire hall wanted for the answer on bated breath.

"I am Mistress Izzy Esquire of the Magical Arts," Izzy bowed. "Here, have my card." The king gasped as a bright green business card suddenly appeared in his hand.

"I do weddings, parties, christenings, bar mitzvahs, and lots of other stuff!" the redhead smiled. "But, I've got to warn you. I do charge 50 percent-"

"Wait!" the king interrupted. "It says here that you are….a fairy?"

The crowd gasped.

-"A fairy?"

-"I've heard of those. Aren't they supposed to be evil?"

-"Pssh… They ain't real…"

-"Oh my goodness! Save the children! She'll grind their bones to make her bread!"

"Actually, that last one is a giant, eh?" Ezekiel informed the crowd. The noblemen and women around him looked at him suspiciously. "B-b-boot that's only some giants, eh! Others are very nice people-"

"Yeah, I'm a fairy…" Izzy admitted. She looked around at the confused and amazed faces of the crowd around her. "Come on, you guys have seen a fairy before, right?" Some in the crowd shook their heads.

"Fairies have been banned in Wawanakwa since before even I was born," the king stated. "No, none of us have ever seen a fairy. Now I don't know how you've come to be here, but I kindly suggest that you see your way out before I summon the guards. You've disturbed this celebration long enough." He waved his hand as if to dismiss her.

The crowd watched as Izzy gradually turned red with anger and clinch her fists before slowly calming down. _**How dare he? **_A few wisps of steam even flew out of her ears, but the redhead calmed down. She could get cheesy poofs later and visit more _hospitable _kingdoms. "Come, Zeke." She called. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

Alas, a majority of historians agree that the following unfortunate events would possibly have not occurred if the king's younger brother hadn't gotten back from the royal library in time to interrupt Izzy's departure. Wawanakwa would never have had to suffer under the despotic reign of King Chris I, and the king may have had a good many years of ruling left in him. But most importantly or unfortunately, the little Prince Harold would have never been cursed.

* * *

Just as the fairy took her brunet servant's hand and prepared for her departure (she had made sure to dislodge the arm of a nearby stone statue so it could fall upon the good king's head before she truly disappeared), she was stopped by the breathless arrival of a dark haired man wearing a small crown.

"Hey look big bro, you've got yourself a party crasher!" exclaimed the dark, shiny haired man as he paused to catch his breath besides the king. "You can't let her go now because according to these rules, which I happened to have spent the last few minutes researching, she has to grant the a member of the royal family a wish."

The king sighed and face-palmed. "Chris…" he muttered.

"Norbie…" Chris slapped his hand onto the king's shoulder, much to the king's obvious disgust. "Big bro, what's shakin'?"

"Chris, where did you get that ridiculous rule?"

Chris smiled. "Ah, ah, ah, big bro. You remember those stories ma used to tell us about fairies? Well, when our little visitor came, I suddenly remembered them. You should thank me that I had the _forethought _to look up some info for you." With this, Chris's smile got even bigger, showing off his perfect, shiny teeth. At the first mention of fairies, Chris had snuck off to the royal library and blazed through the shelves until he had found what he was looking for...

The king looked up into his younger brother's sly face and growled. He knew that his little brother was an outright scheming little bastard, and if the king didn't keep such a close hold upon his brother, his throne might one day be compromised. _**What plan has been conjured up underneath that perfectly styled head of his? **_

Chris held out an enormous ancient tome the length of his own arm. "You want to read for yourself?"

"No, no…" the king waved the book away. If there was one thing that he was sure about, he was sure that that particular rule about fairies was written in that book. Chris had always backed up his plans by valid rules, and even in his most devious of actions, the duke had made sure that all of the consequences had been protected by the law. The only thing the king could not decipher was exactly how Chris could benefit from this.

"Well, I'm not doing anything for that big fat jerk! He told me to get out, so _nuh-uh_, no nothing!" Izzy exclaimed after she (and the rest of the hall) heard their conversation, crossing her arms, but it surprised her how quickly these people could unearth a rule supposedly forgotten centuries ago.

"Her refusal means nothing as I don't want any wishes from that-that _fairy. _Where are the guards to see this creature out?" the king growled again pointing at Izzy, and the _fairy _took this opportunity to blow a raspberry. A few people in the audience chuckled.

"As I knew you wouldn't, big bro," Chris chuckled as well. This was going to plan better than expected. "You had always been so easy to predict…. Now it's my turn."

The king's palms began to sweat as he realized that he just practically handed his egotistical, power hungry brother his entire kingdom, or worse. He had always known that Chris desired his throne, and with the fairy's reluctant help, his brother could ask for anything, _anything_…

Chris turned towards the crowd. "As you all heard, my bro King Norbert, had decided to skip his wish. Too bad, brah. But-since I am a member of the royal family _as well_, I also have a shot."

Whispers broke out amongst the crowd once more as Chris turned to face Izzy.

"First, I want to be ki-" Chris began before Izzy interrupted him.

"Oh, I'm not granting you anything either," the redhead grinned.

A frown crossed Chris's handsome features before he smiled yet again. "Oh but you have to. It's in your fairy rules. You've come to a royal gathering; therefore, you must complete a wish to the satisfaction of a member of the royal family. It's all here in black and white." He leered a bit at the fairy in satisfaction.

"Oh, I believe you," Izzy stated. "And I am really going to give something to a member of the royal family. Just not to you and you." With the last three words, she pointed to the king and Chris. Just then, Ezekiel caught her eye from his spot beside her and grinned. Izzy grinned back.

"But that doesn't make any sense!" Chris complained. This situation wasn't going his way. He was supposed to be king already. And Chris hated when things didn't go his way.

"Boot it does make sense," Zeke answered.

"And how would you know?" sneered Chris as he turned to look at the boy.

"Because you two meanies are forgetting the last member of the royal family!" Izzy cheered in triumph, holding the prince yet again.

"But he's just a baby; how can he receive any wishes?" the king asked, relieved that his brother will not be able to receive anything, but also worried for his only son.

"He can receive a promise from me to be his fairy godmother from now on," Izzy stated. "And one more thing…" She bent down to whisper into the infant's ear.

"Jeez, this cannot be happening…" Chris groaned. "Dude, _not _cool..."

"There!" Izzy exclaimed as she finished whispering her spell. "And to seal this baby.." The redhead tapped her finger once on the infant's forehead to finish her incantation, and Harold sneezed on excess fairy dust. "Ha! Ha! You get it, Zekey? _Seal this baby_?"

Ezekiel laughed a little before tapping his mistress on the shoulder to remind her it's time they should be going-before they get threatened by more arrows. "Um, Mistress Izzy?"

"Oh…yeah…" Izzy remembered. She tucked the prince back into his cradle before turning to wave to the confused crowd. "See ya in 16 years!" And with that, the redhead snapped her fingers, and she and Ezekiel were gone.

As soon as the pair disappeared, the king rushed to his son's cradle, narrowly missing the falling arm of a nearby stone statue. He gingerly picked up his son and cautiously checked for any spines or scales that the fairy could have possibly cursed him with, but found none.

The king laughed heartily before calling out to the crowd, "He's alright!" The noblemen and women all clapped in congratulations, and the music started again. The celebration was back on in full swing.

"We dodged a mighty bullet, my son, didn't we?" the king smiled fondly, and the little prince sleepily returned his father's smile.

However, there was one person present who didn't share everyone else's relief. "Whatever…" Chris mumbled disappointedly. "I'm headed back to my chambers…" An opportunity, wasted. It was time for him to head back to the drawing board.

Or so he thought.

* * *

Many hours later and miles away, Ezekiel and Izzy were safe and sound sitting in Izzy's cart. The dragons were presently gracefully pulling them across some moonlit ocean south of the equator.

Izzy was almost asleep, and normally Ezekiel would have already drifted off to the Land of Nod, but something had been on his mind for the past few hours.

"Mistress Izzy?" Zeke began.

"Hmm…hmm?" mumbled Izzy. Her face scrunched up, and she yawned loudly.

"Back there, at that castle… Woot spell did you put on that little boy?"

The redhead sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Um…um…"

She was too sleepy to recall at that moment, but after a few cups of hot chocolate, her memory came back.

"Oh I remember!" Izzy exclaimed. Zeke grinned. This was what usually happens when one gives his mistress sugar of any kind. "I made sure that he would never grow up to be like his jerk of a father or his sleaze ball of an uncle! He will grow up to be a better person without their influences." She smirked in satisfaction.

"Oh," Zeke replied. Things were quiet for a while before another question popped into his head.

"Boot how would you make sure he won't grow up to be like his father or his uncle, eh?"

"Meh, I don't know," Izzy admitted, waving her hands around nonchalantly. "The magic kinda takes care of that itself, you know? Unless you dictate exactly how a spell should go, it never matters how things get done as long as the magic is fulfilled in the end."

The brunet nodded, but a little bit of him still felt uneasy. Something had gone wrong; he was sure of it.

"So will the prince have a happy life?" Zeke asked.

Izzy looked at Zeke with a smile. "You're really worried about this prince fella, ain't cha?"

"Oh, noo, I-"

"It's okay," the fairy grinned. "If you want, we can check on him. You want to?"

"Sure, eh!" Zeke nodded.

"Alright!" With a flourish, Izzy waved her hands to create a large circular mirror hanging in the air. "And now for a close up view…" The contents of the mirror began to swirl before refocusing to reveal a familiar forbidding castle. Zeke moved closer to in order to better see the figures rushing in and out of the palace.

"Hmm… Can't hear a thing…" Izzy mumbled as she grabbed a nearby remote and pressed a button.

"SEARCH THE CASTLE FOR SURVIVORS!" ordered one soldier who was mounted upon a cream colored horse.

"SOMEBODY PUT OUT THAT FIRE! DEAR LORD, HAS ANYONE SEEN THE KING?" another soldier cried.

"Ah! Too loud! Too loud!" Ezekiel cried, his hands over his ears trying to protect himself from the blast coming out of the enchanted mirror. Izzy immediately pressed another button on the remote, and the volume diminished to an acceptable level.

"Whoa!" Izzy yelled. Her hair was sticking out behind her, frozen solid. "When they said that the sound system will rock your socks off, they weren't kidding!"

Zeke was about to remind Izzy that she didn't wear any socks, but he decided to fight through the ringing in his ears and listen to the mirror.

A large gathering of imperial soldiers and castle guards were standing outside the palace, yelling and swearing. Izzy and Zeke were disturbed to see that some of them had been badly wounded.

"My goodness!" cried a castle servant who had been attending to the wounds of a soldier. It was clear by the way her fellow servants pulled a worn burlap sack over his body that her services weren't needed any longer. "Who would do something like this?"

Everyone was silent for a moment before one grizzled captain spoke up. "T'is looks like the work of a group of Boney Island assassins, mum."

"You're lying!" a raven haired young woman accused. Izzy and Ezekiel recognized her as Heather, the one who had called Izzy a psycho hose beast earlier. Her face was pale and harsh in the firelight. "I finalized the last details of a peace treaty between us and Boney Island just last week! They wouldn't go back on it-and not like this!"

"Then tell me why these assassins fight like Boney Islanders, _Advisor_!" the captain snapped back while adding an extra sneer to the last word. "Why would they choose the prince's birthday of all days to infiltrate the castle? Because they knew that our defenses would be weak this day! Tell me why the very front door of the castle was left unguarded for those slime to just walk right in and position themselves!"

With this the older man leaned upon Heather's snarling face. "It almost seems as if this was an inside job."

Heather crossed her arms in fury. "Are you trying to imply something…_Captain_?"

"I have no evidence to imply anything my lady," the captain bowed, but he knew that everyone had heard. The whispers behind the advisor's back were beginning to sound. "But I must say it is intriguing to me how just a week after you meet in secret to finalize this peace treaty with the leaders of Boney Island, they just so happen to send their assassins to our palace in an attempt to assassinate our royal family."

"Look, you!-" Heather began.

"Be wary! The king is here!" someone in the crowd shouted.

Heather smiled. "Good. Because you forget, Captain, that the king was present in that meeting with Boney Island as well. He will give you the truth."

"Or so you hope…" the captain whispered ominously but Heather had already chosen to ignore him. They waited as the crowd parted to all the king to pass. Soon, Zeke and Izzy could see the familiar crown moving through the crowd, and finally the crowd opened to reveal…

"Chris?" Heather asked, confused.

"Ah, ah, ah!" Chris raised a finger. "That is _King _Chris to you now, Advisor Heather."

Heather gasped. "Stop joking, Chris!" Chris smiled.

"You really should listen to me more, Heather." The new king snapped his fingers. "Guards, come and restrain the royal advisor." The guards hesitated.

"Guards!" Chris shouted, and the burly men jumped at Chris's voice and rushed to restrain the furious advisor.

"Hmph!" Heather screamed as four large, sweaty men immobilized her.

"There. Now as I was saying, I am now your king since the timely demise of my dear older brother and his little brat-" Chris dramatically paused here so that the crowd could have a moment to grieve over their lost monarchs. "-which-"

"Wait!" a voice called. "Wait! He's alive!"

"Oh great, what now?" Chris sighed. "Who's alive?"

"Who's alive?" the captain repeated.

"Hmph-a-humph?" Heather asked.

"The priiiinnnccceee!" Everyone saw a large blond young man breathlessly running towards them holding a screaming bundle. "The prince…" Owen breathed. "So…much…running… So…tired… _Mommy_…." After the call for his mommy, the blond giant collapsed onto his back.

"Jeepers! Is he alright?" asked a nearby servant.

"Oh he'll be fine," a guard laughed. He then reached into his metal armor and pulled out a chicken leg. "Watch this." The guard waved the leg over Owen's nose. The supposedly unconscious guard twitched.

"Yummy…. _Chicken_…." Owen drooled, breaking out of his unconsciousness instantly before hopping back on his feet to eat the tasty treat.

"Where did you find the prince?" Chris growled. This could not be happening. Two opportunities to become king, gone in an instant.

"In his nursery," Owen replied honestly. "I was coming back from the ball and was about to head down to the kitchens for another slice of that heavenly pie when I smelled smoke. Somebody had set fire to the prince's nursery-although who would try do that to the little guy, I have no idea." Owen then made some silly gestures to the prince, and the little prince made a game of trying to grab the guard's grubby fingers.

"And is the king truly dead?" Heather breathed. In the revelation about the miraculous survival of the prince, even the guards who had been immobilizing Heather loosened their grip.

Owen hung his head. "I saw his body…on my way out here…."

As fresh tears burst from among the castle servants, soldiers, and guards alike, Chris took the opportunity to assert his new authority. "Well, since my brother is truly dead, I am now king-"

"Actually, you're regent," Heather interrupted triumphantly. Anything to pop Chris's victory bubble after she had just been manhandled by four disgusting guards. She wouldn't get the taste of dirt out of her mouth for days. "By law, kings are crowned through a direct line of succession. With King Norbert dead, Prince Harold inherits the crown, not you."

Heather smiled wickedly as Chris looked like he was about to throw a tantrum. But soon, a grin found its way back upon his face once again. _**So what if he wasn't technically king? He had a year old nephew who could not possibly run a kingdom. And with luck, the brat may never be fit to run one. **_Chris decided that he just might help that luck out.

"Well, by the royal advisor's informative words," Chris paused to give Heather an evil wink, "I shall take up the position of Regent until my nephew is of proper age to receive the crown. I shall also become his royal guardian."

The audience was moved by Chris's supposedly humble speech, all, well, except Advisor Heather.

The new Regent then gestured to Owen. "Let me hold him."

Owen looked doubtful at first, but he obeyed the order and handed the little prince over to the regent. As he was handed over, little Harold looked up into his uncle's shiny dark eyes and began to cry. It was almost as if he had an inkling of the neglect and abuse he will suffer over the next 16 years of his life.

"Oh, I'll take good care of him…" Chris smiled wickedly... And all audio from the magical mirror cut off. The depths of the mirror became foggy again, and Izzy mechanically waved her arm to dissolve it.

It was a long while before either of them spoke as they were too wrapped up in the tragedy that had befallen the kingdom of Wawanakwa. All that could be heard was the creaking of the cart and the flapping of the dragons' wings.

"W-was all that the result of your magic, Izzy?" Ezekiel had forgotten her title of Mistress in his shock and disbelief.

Izzy looked out onto the dark ocean for a moment. "I think so, Zeke…" the redhead answered quietly. "Or at least my magic helped. After all it does not matter how the prince grows up, but the fact that he will grow up to be a better person than if he would under the influence of his father or his uncle."

"And his father is now dead, eh…" Zeke said softly.

"Oh, Zeke!" Izzy threw her arms around the brunet and squeezed in anguish. "I didn't mean for all this to happen! I just wanted to help and teach those jerkwads a lesson!"

"It's ookay, Izzy," Zeke comforted, one hand in her thick red curls. "At least your spell will result in his being a better person in the end. He'll be alright, eh?"

Izzy sniffed, then slightly smiled. "I guess so, Zeke. But I can't shake the feeling that I've cursed the poor little guy."

Ezekiel could say nothing. From his position still holding Izzy, he turned his eyes up to the night sky and prayed a silent prayer for the now orphaned little prince.

* * *

**Okay, chapter done. Well, I told you it was going to be a bit darker. So, Harold is now an orphan and under the guardianship of his devious uncle, Chris. Poor kid, eh? And who arranged for the castle to be attacked by Boney Island assassins and the resulting death of the king? Heather, the royal advisor? Chris, the new scheming Regent? Or was it done by the Boney Islanders themselves?**

**Also in the original story, the fairy curses the prince ON PURPOSE for his to grow up to be a better person. I cannot see Izzy cursing an innocent child on purpose, but if it wasn't on purpose...? Ha, well, now you know the source for all the bad luck Harold will have while growing up, which will in turn, shape his personality and explain why Harold is the way he is. But that's not all, more TDI characters in the next chapter! See you then!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi people! I'm back again! Alright, new chapter and there are no character back stories in this one. Yay! Also please note that the character Awna is not an OC, or a mispelling of a character's name. Awna's name _is _Awna, but at the same time it's not. Confused? In a few chapters, you'll find out... And no stereotypical roles from this author. Sure, Courtney is a princess, but is she the only one? I think the answer will surprise you. But the plot kicks off from here guys. Thanks for reading! **

* * *

Hello, reader!

I, the authoress, wouldn't feel like a true historian if I did not reveal what happened after that fateful night when the king died, so the following three paragraphs shall cover this. However you can skip these paragraphs as they are mainly about a cursed boy growing up underneath his usurping uncle. Don't worry, you won't be missing much. Well, maybe you will be lacking _some _information, but not much. This information will be important in later chapters (and most likely during your next history test), but... You can still skip it, right?

However, on to the story! Huzzah!

* * *

**Foreward (unless...well, you've skipped it. Shame on you.)**

For a person suffering under an unintentional curse, Prince Harold was really more or less well-off. Due to his royal status, we historians have evidence that he was fed everyday and adequately clothed, and every month he would have the newest and most awesome games delivered personally to his tower (according to surviving records we've found, the expenses of the prince's gaming habits were quite horrendous to say the least). Every summer he was allowed to go to summer camp while the Princess Courtney attended her standard counselor training sessions (needless to say that both always came back with a burning desire to show off what they had learned-much to the chagrin of King Chris, Chef Hatchet, and the rest of the castle), and as a result, one could say that the prince was happy. The fact that one day he would have to take up his rightful position as king when he came of age rarely crossed his mind, as his mind was full of facts about the life cycle of squirrels, the correct way to throw ninja stars, and other random things that no one else seemed to find interesting-which, of course, played right into his uncle's hands.

King Chris had found the problem of what to do about his young nephew mind-boggling at first. He could not outright kill the boy without drawing suspicion unto himself, and every assassin he was able to contact wanted no less than $50 grand-an amount which Chris absolutely refused to agree to. That would definitely cut into his shampoo and conditioner money, and everyone knew that the best quality stuff didn't come cheap. So for a while, King Chris was stumped about what exactly to do. Every year the boy grew older was another year closer to the time when Chris would have to give up the throne, and that fact was never far from the king's (well technically, regent's) mind. It wasn't until the brat was about five years old that Chris's luck began to change. Bad luck began to follow the little prince: first it was a slight clumsiness that was barely noticeable; then after his shocking collapse during a festival, it was discovered that the prince was hypoglycemic. About a year after that, the boy underwent serious surgery: a double kidney transplant. The situation looked rather grim for the little prince, but Chris was disappointed when he'd learned that the boy had made a full recovery. Two years later, (and much to Chris's displeasure again), Harold managed to survive a near fatal gummy slug incident almost unscathed which should have in the very least paralyzed him for life.

Everyone within the castle knew the story behind Chris's dislike for Harold (except, ironically, Harold himself), and it was the biggest joke around. The idea that King Chris in all his power and might, couldn't find a way to off one scrawny little teenager was a gag that kept a majority of the castle servants cackling for years. Not that the servants liked Prince Harold; oh no, they found him to be spoiled and annoying-at the sound of his deep, raspy voice, every maid, butler, groom, etc. would go out of his or her way to hide and avoid being subjected to an unwanted lecture about topics such as why germs were indeed beneficial to the human race. It was actually their despise of King Chris that made the situation hilarious: anything to rub that shiny-toothed jerk's nose in it…

...

...

But I digress…

* * *

Two weeks after Princess Courtney was shown the portrait of her soon-to-be Boney Island suitor, three servants could be found gossiping in the royal breakfast hall, clearing the remains of the royals' morning repast. Two of them happened to be quite good friends, while the third was a recent transfer from the stables.

"Hey! Hey, Awna!" a pale slender maid with striking blue striped hair called. She promptly made a haughty face and crossed her arms. "Guess who I am?" Her friend immediately cracked up with laughter.

"Girl, stop…" another maid who must have been Awna chuckled; she was stout with her dark hair secured in a long ponytail. "This is the wrong place to be mockin' old Queen Bee. You never know if she might be listening."

"What's the matter, Awnie?" the pale maid teased. "Scared of Old What's-her-face?" The two laughed. Old What's-her-face was a frequent joke between them.

"Child _puh_-lease," Awna answered. "Scared of what, Gwen? What's an advisor gonna do to me?" The sassy young woman pulled out a bucket full of rags. "_Advise _me on how to clean this table?" The two laughed again before the last maid piped up.

"Um, guys?" the last maid, a short brunette wearing square glasses, began. "I really don't think we should be talking about this."

Gwen and Awna sighed. This one was new. Obviously, she had no idea of how things were done in the castle, and in the castle, jokes about Advisor Heather were given free reign-well, as long as one didn't get caught by the advisor herself, that is.

"Hey… You're new. You don't know how it is-" Awna tried to explain.

"Advisor Heather is a friend of Lady Lindsay's. Lady Lindsay is the one who got me out of the stables," the short maid stated. "Plus, Lady Lindsay paid for my orthodontic treatment. See?" She opened her mouth to reveal perfect, sparkling white teeth.

"Wow…" Gwen raised an eyebrow in morbid fascination at the sight of her own reflection.

"…shiny." Awna finished.

"You see?" the short brunette smiled. "Lady Lindsay is my friend."

Gwen and Awna stared at each other.

"Your friend?" Awna repeated.

"A royal is _never _your friend," Gwen huffed as she cleared away the remaining dishes. "All royals are a bunch of spoiled, stuck-up jerkwads who sit around all day dictating crap with silver spoons in their mouths…" She paused to sigh. "Look kid, what's your name?"

The short maid stumbled for a second. "B-beth."

"Ok, look Beth, there're a lot of things you will have to learn if you're going to be working here," Gwen explained. "And learning that everybody isn't your friend is first, alright?"

A bit shocked, Beth nodded, and Awna took the liberty of trying to steer the conversation in another direction. "So… Any news from the outside?" she asked, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

"Nothing three insignificant servants should bother about knowing," a silky, sarcastic feminine voice replied. "My, my, my… And I've always wondered what things the servants got up to…"

With a loud collective gasp, the three servants stopped their chatter and stared at the dark, smirking form of Advisor Heather. "Well? Cat's got your tongues?" Heather asked.

Awna recovered first. "We were just finishing," the stout maid answered shortly; her obvious dislike for the advisor etched onto her face. Behind her, Gwen's face matched her own.

"Oh really?" Toying with the help amused the advisor from time to time. "Because I'm sure I just heard you three slacking off, and I am more than authorized to punish you as I see fit-"

But Beth couldn't take it anymore. Horrified at the thought of being punished on her first day in the castle, the brunette pleaded for lenience. "Oh please, please, Advisor Heather! We didn't mean to slack off!"

"Eww… Get away!" Heather drew back, disgusted at the tears which were now ruining her fine leather boots. Awna reached forward to restrain the panicking girl while Gwen glared.

"I think you should leave… _Advisor_," the pale maid spat making sure to add extra vehemence in that last word.

"And I think that you have forgotten your place…. _Peasant_!" Heather snapped. The two hatefully stared each other down for a moment before the advisor continued. "But no matter. I will have to deal with you three later. I need to conduct some…business…in this room."

The raven haired woman turned to Beth.

"You! Pig Girl!"

The short maid almost squeaked in surprise.

"Housekeeping will need help preparing for the arrival of the Boney Island prince tomorrow. Go help!" Heather ordered. The little maid sniffed, performed a quick, but awkward little bow, and rushed out of the room.

"Now you…" Heather turned to Awna, and the impertinent maid responded with by crossing her arms with a look of extreme dislike. "You will collect the remains of his Highness Alpha Geek's breakfast."

The pony tailed maid responded with a groan, but she turned to give a small reluctant look to her friend and walked out the room. Now, only Heather and Gwen were left standing in the room.

"And now," Heather smirked, meeting Gwen's hateful dark eyes. "It's your turn…"

* * *

Meanwhile elsewhere in the castle, Princess Courtney was furious.

No matter how she had protested and complained and asserted her God-given rights as a princess of Wawanakwa and as a human being, her father did not budge an inch. But then again, her father was known to bypass human rights when it so befitted him. However, the freak prince of Boney Island was coming. Tomorrow. And there was nothing she could do about it.

Courtney grimaced and ran her hand through her medium length brown hair. "Why me…" she sighed. She slumped against the wall for a moment before continuing to trudge down a deserted hall near the north tower.

Suddenly, the brunette stopped for a moment before huffing loudly and slapping herself. "Come on, Courtney!" she chanted. "You don't pout. You can still do something about this. You're a royal and a C.I.T. for goodness sake!"

For a moment, a determined look crossed the princess's face before a flash of that green mohawk flitted across her mind, and her face broke out into a sob.

"Alright! Alright! That's enough. I'm tired of hearing you whine!" a harsh voice yelled in frustration.

"W-who's there?" Courtney jumped back as a huge black figure approached.

"Someone who is tired of hearing her royal highness whine all day long. Get over yourself!" the figure answered.

But the princess had recovered from her shock, and now she was angry. She didn't know who this mysterious woman was, standing in the middle of the hall wearing a long black hood and cape, but she was certain that this person was no princess-and therefore she didn't have as much power or as much authority as Courtney. This was insubordination. It was time for this person to submit to her princess.

"Look you-" Courtney began, when suddenly the strange woman made a quick gesture with her hand.

"Shut up…" the hooded figure ordered, and Courtney felt a mysterious force glue her lips together,. Her eyes bugged out. "Mmmph!" the princess shrieked in fear. "Mmph-mumph!"

"_Still annoying_…" the figure growled. "But better. Look. My chambers are directly below yours, and I can't sleep at night because of your constant complaining. Do you know how _angry _I get when I DON'T get enough _SLEEP_?"

Courtney could almost see a vein popping out of the strange woman's forehead, and she gave a little "Meep!" in response.

"I could pound you now," the figure clinched her fists, and Courtney flinched. "But that doesn't solve the problem." The woman said this slowly, reluctantly. "So… I'm going to help you. Do you want help?"

Courtney stared in disbelief.

"I _SAID_…" the woman growled again. "Did you want help?"

The princess almost cried out and nodded her head.

"Good," replied the mysterious hooded woman, the ghost of a smirk breaking across her face. "I will help you. Now listen up…"

* * *

In the meantime, our lovely advisor Heather was now alone with Gwen having been sent to scrub out the palace toilets. The buildup of 6 months of unmentionable gunk would keep the blue haired servant busy for hours.

She ran her pale fingers over the surface of the dining table and smirked as she heard the slight sound of a door closing behind her.

"You've come early," the advisor said softly.

"I came as soon as I could!" another voice called. "I had a meeting with Chris."

The advisor nodded slightly as she then turned to face…

…herself.

There were two Heathers facing each other in the breakfast hall.

"Nice disguise," the second Heather commented. "I've always been amazed at what you people can do."

"Thanks, eh!" the first Heather smiled brightly, a look that was uncharacteristically happy for the advisor's usually cold and shrewd face. "Boot it was really hard to act like you. There were three girls in here earlier and-"

"Whatever, whatever, Prairie Boy. Get to the reason why we're having this conversation. What does the _Great and All-Knowing Izzy _want of me now?" the real Heather huffed.

"She wants nothing this time," the fake Heather shook himself, and the disguise fell off like an avalanche of dust-revealing the familiar form of Mistress Izzy's faithful toque-wearing servant. "I came here on my own, just to warn you, eh? Our sensors warned us that a powerful being is here. Somebody who could jeopardize everything.."

Heather laughed. "Oh really? You guys have ultimate power. What's out there that can scare even you?"

Ezekiel looked uncomfortable, and the realization that something out there that could undo even a fairy's power made the advisor's stomach sink in horror.

"Tell me, Prairie Boy!" Heather screeched. They both knew that this could be the deal-breaker to her and Izzy's agreement long ago.

"I-I don't know who," Zeke stammered. "Boot his magic blocked even Izzy's, eh?"

Heather's quick mind immediately pondered this information. _**If this person was more powerful than Izzy... **_

"Is it another fairy?" she asked.

Zeke looked away, and Heather pressed him again.

"Is it?"

"No," Ezekiel gulped.

"Then what is it?"

Zeke sighed, before answering.

"A witch."

* * *

**Okay. A bit of a short chapter. Would have been longer but the plot bunnies were evading me about how to set up a certain meeting between 2 characters. Oh well... But yes, first fairies, so why not witches? And Zeke posing as successfully as Heather is logical I think. The guy is fluent in 8 different languages, I think. I'm sure he could change his accent at will if he wanted. But watch out people, I'll say it once again. The plot really kicks off from here so hold on. It's gonna be a bumpy ride! Until next chapter people! Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay people, I'm back! This time, new characters, old characters, more plot development... Blah, blah, blah... And as I said before, I love to use characters that other people rarely use. Sigh... I know this story is a bit different from the mainstream, but I feel that stories such as these should be put out on this site. A break from the monotony. Ha! I'm not expecting too many reviews with this, but it's a great release for my creativity. Besides, I promised myself I'll finish this before I get back to Sadie. Anyway, read on! **

* * *

**Forward**

Many historians find it fascinating at how just one simple action has the potential to change the course of history. What if Napoleon hadn't fallen at Waterloo? What if the parents of Sir Isaac Newton never met and married? What if a sympathetic travelling salesman hadn't given the insignificant and downright hideous third daughter of a poor farmer a book of fairy tales? Historians may argue and discuss the possible ramifications if the first two events had never happened, but a vast majority agree on a single answer for the third.

The events of this story would have never had happened.

But alas, enough of this authoress's ramblings...

* * *

A knock on the door.

"Hello?" a tentative voice called. "Yo! Housekeeping! Housekeeping here…"

The voice received no answer, but the door opened anyway however, and the bedraggled figure of Awna pushed a metal serving cart into the room. After closing the door behind her, the exhausted maid leaned against the wood and sighed. Carrying that heavy cart up all the stairs of the south tower to the prince's chambers was no joke indeed.

Looking around, Awna could see that she was in some kind of antechamber of sorts. More doors were seen off to the right and left, but in the middle of the room was the half-eaten breakfast that she was supposed to be clearing from the table.

"Well, come on Awnie, you ain't got all day…" Awna tried to steel herself, but her eyes caught some of the various interesting-looking knick knacks on the shelves. Her fingers itched to investigate just exactly what they were. Neither Awna nor any of her friends had ever been inside the prince's quarters before… She had heard lots of stories, and she had to admit that she was a little curious to find out how the socially awkward royal lived. At least to have a little gossip to share with Gwen that night…but immediately Awna's mind redirected her to the task at hand. She groaned before picking up the nearest plate and shaking her head at the amount of food still on it. Back at the servants' quarters where she had spent most of her childhood, every last plate would have been licked clean.

Awna shook her head again as she came to her last dish: a bowl full of biscuits. '_What a waste_,' the maid thought, before another thought rushed into her head. Hurriedly she wrapped the biscuits in a cloth and gently slipped the mass into an unused pocket. Those would be perfect to share with the other girls at the servants' hall. Smiling, the pony-tailed maid picked up the last biscuit. One must be set aside for herself, of course. Her work done, and her pockets full, Awna was just about to leave.

But something to the left of her caught her eye.

Letting go of the new heavily laden cart, Awna looked around cautiously before walking over to the shelf full of odd things. Her common sense reminded her that she would definitely get in trouble if she was caught rummaging through things that belonged to the royal family, especially with a pocket full of biscuits that she'd swiped from the table, but her curiosity won out. Besides, it would be five minutes at the most.

At least, that is what she told herself.

Her mental argument over, Awna sneaked over to the object that had stolen her attention. That object turned out to be a ring. A very beautiful ring, set with finely crafted diamonds and white gold. The diameter seemed impossibly small, made only for the petite fingers of a lady of high birth, and Awna stared at her own fingers for a moment and wondered if it would fit her pinky. However, if the maid had bothered to notice that the ring was on display underneath a portrait of the old Queen, renown for her illustrious beauty, who happened to be wearing that exact ring, she would have most likely not done what she did next.

Awna reached over to touch the ring when she heard a slightly wheezy cough behind her.

"Salutations, milady," Prince Harold bowed. "What are you doing here?"

Awna turned around and smiled weakly at the prince, but inwardly she cursed herself for her foolishness. The prince himself had caught her touching royal belongings, and a royal would never believe that she wasn't about to steal that ring. A royal would trust his own eyes and condemn her at once. She'd seen people chained and flogged for much less than what she was about to be accused of. _Who knows what they would do to her for trying to steal something that valuable?_ Her mind imagined a hundred punishments, each worse than the last, and the only thing she knew she could do now was run.

"Uh... Gotta go!" Awna yelled, pushing by a confused Harold. In her haste, I must point out that neither the prince nor the maid noticed the bright flash of light which radiated for a second from the center diamond of the ring. They did not notice when the ring disappeared from its place underneath the portrait of its old mistress, and Awna also did not notice the extra weight when it reappeared within her apron pocket-already full of dry biscuits.

Neither the prince nor the maid had any idea what trouble that ring was going to cause.

* * *

However far away in another part of the castle, a dark figure cursed.

"The ring has chosen a mistress!" the figure cried as she slammed a fist through a nearby table, cracking it in two. She breathed heavily for a moment before she began to think.

"The ring has chosen a mistress…" the figure repeated softly as ideas began to form in her head. "That means that it should be much easier to find now." The figure smiled sardonically, and if one was standing inside that room at that very moment, that person could imagine that she was visioning herself ripping that ring right off some unlucky person's finger…

* * *

"What do ya think, Chef?" asked King Chris, holding up two suit jackets. "The red and white one or the red and black one?"

Chef Hatchet grumbled, then sighed. They had already gone through three-fourths of the royal closet, looking for an outfit suitable for the arrival of Prince Duncan tomorrow. The former military man had already given his Highness a facial, a full-body massage, and had also performed a very humorous puppet show. His patience, already thin in any situation, had been worn down to the quick. In times like these (_when he desperately wanted to be able to wring old Pretty Boy's neck_), his therapist had advised him to enter into his "happy place." The huge chef closed his eyes and envisioned himself running freely beside a wild pony, the wind blazing through its chestnut mane…

"Um, Chef?" Chris asked. "Your opinion please?"

Chef, now deep in his happy place, didn't respond, and Chris frowned at the disturbingly happy grin on the larger man's face.

"Chef, dude…" King Chris leaned over to poke him in the chest. "You okay, brah?"

Chef drooled.

"Cheeeeeefffff….!" Chris yelled sing-song like into the chef's ear, but the huge man still did not respond. The king frowned again before an idea popped into his head.

"SNOTTY TEENAGERS HAVING FUN!" Chris yelled. "SNOTTY TEENAGERS DEFYING AU-THOR-IT-YYYY!"

"WHAT?" Chef woke up from his reverie and grabbed the nearest intimidating object he could find. "WHERE?"

Chris laughed, pleased that his idea worked as planned. "Ah, good old predictable Chef…"

Chef sighed. '_So much for that therapist_,' he thought. Fifty _chrisoleans __(information for the reader: the chrisolean was the standard Wawanakwan currency at that time period. Oddly enough, it's the same currency as today_) down the drain.

"I hate this job," the large man grumbled before walking towards the chamber door.

"Wait! Where're you going?" Chris called. "You never said which color combination you liked better."

Chef stopped before mumbling, "The red and white one."

"Sweet! Red and black it is then!" Chris smiled happily, throwing the red and white jacket to the ground. Chef kept walking out the door.

"And don't forget, Chef. You have special privileges in the torture chambers tonight. We have to clear them out for the arrival of the prince tomorrow," Chris added.

Chef Hatchet, in the middle of the hall, stopped.

Then grinned.

N_ow he remembered why he enjoyed this job…._

* * *

Prince Duncan sucked his teeth. In 24 hours, he would meet the spoiled brat he would most likely be expected to marry. No, his father threatened that he _must _marry the girl this time-or else face the next 10 years stationed at Outpost 74 until one of the three following things happened: death, the finishing of this ten years service, or until he couldn't take that wasteland anymore and gave in to his father's demands. Duncan shuddered, but also grinned a bit. The old man had actually come up with something that scared even him; the prince couldn't help but to appreciate that.

However, the prince was not one to brood and sulk. He pulled out a ball and began to play a one man game of catch against the wall of his cabin.

Thwack!

Thwack!

Thwack!

Another teenager, this one a small brunet, was busy writing something down on a nearby table. Every time the ball made a Thwack! against the wood, he made an ink blot on his parchment.

Thwack!

Blot.

Thwack!

Blot.

Thwack!

"Um, dude…" began the last teenager, which happened to be blond. "That sound is getting kinda not cool. You might wanna stop man."

"Y-yeah. It's getting kinda annoying man," added the small brunet.

Duncan immediately caught the flying ball with one hand and groaned. "Well, what do you propose I do then?" The other two teens looked at each other.

"Well you could rehearse this speech I wrote," the small brunet answered brightly. "I've wrote some magic that is sure to knock _any _lady off her heels-"

"Cody," the prince interrupted flatly. "I don't need help with the ladies from a little dweeb like you."

Cody, the brunet, looked disappointed for a moment before the blond pointed out, "But dude… Your dad… You have to hook up with this babe. If you don't-"

"I know. I know," Duncan rolled his eyes tiredly. "#74 here I come."

"And you sorta haven't been lucky with all those other babes on your own…" the blond finished weakly.

"Geoff, you know my problem with those other princesses," the prince grumbled, running his fingers over his mohawk. "Ballroom dancing, the art of _knitting_, calorie counting, _ruffles_…_pink_… I'd rather fight off a dozen Sasquatchanakwas than spend a minute with those laced up airheads."

As Cody sighed and got back to work on Duncan's supposed love speech and Geoff returned to his designs of the ultimate reception party (_he and the Wawanakwan party planner had been planning this for weeks_), unbeknownst to both the valet and the knight, the bored prince was planning a little something of his own. Before the rebel was to become chained to some whiny little princess, he was going to have a little…fun.

Duncan's teal eyes sparkled with anticipated amusement.

* * *

Meanwhile a little later back at the castle, another conversation was unfolding…

"So let me get this straight," one voice drawled. "You reward the help for filching? _Sane _people usually flog the help for filching."

"She wasn't filching," Harold answered, sitting up on his enormous four poster bed. "She was…_looking_."

"_Right_…." Noah the Grand Vizier replied. "You said so yourself that she was reaching to grab your deceased mother's ring. I suppose she was only inspecting the quality of the diamonds then? I suppose she told you that?"

"Hmm hmph," Prince Harold mumbled, flopping back on his bed and starting to sketch onto some parchment.

Noah couldn't believe this. "The very same guy who questions his physics tutor about the theory of electron clouds and sinusoidal waves believes some random filthy servant when he catches her _**in the act **_of stealing a prized family heirloom?"

"Hey, don't you insult her!" Harold snapped. "She isn't _filthy_. Gosh!" The vizier was surprised to note a slight flame of fury in those green eyes, which only meant one thing.

"And what is the name of this lucky lady?" Noah sighed. As soon as he had the maid's name, the vizier could track her down, re-acquire the ring, and properly reprimand the girl who was probably gloating over her luck. Damage control. Unsurprisingly this was a huge part Noah's job-considering what characters the royal family were.

"I don't know…" Harold sighed deeply.

"_You don't know_?" Noah almost screeched.

The prince looked away. "Gosh, I don't know… She ran out the door after I tried to talk to her. She looked scared that I caught her looking at Doris, and I wanted to tell her that I wasn't going to hurt her, but she ran off before I could say it. She even left her cart behind."

"However, she made sure to leave with the ring…" Noah muttered. '_So now she's gotten away. No one knows her name, and there's probably thousands of girls out there who fit her description. She's most likely out there selling that priceless royal heirloom on the black market as we speak._'

"I'm a excellent natural judge of character," Harold stated. "I think she was scared and took the ring by accident. Yep,"he paused, "That must be it."

However, the vizier had had enough. He wasn't used to such blind faith and idiocy, and frankly he didn't care enough to continue trying to reason with the prince. "Okay, I'm done. This conversation is pointless, and there is absolutely no hope for you. Anyway, I need to leave now, or I'll be late for my meeting with our new head commander of the Wawanakwan army."

Harold looked up. "Commander? Does he know anything about shuriken?" The auburn-haired male was suddenly interested in something other than mysterious maids.

"_**She**_," Noah corrected. "The new commander is a _**she**_, although there has been some debate about that. Her name is Evangeline."

"That's kinda awesome!" the prince said, flipping back onto his back. "I bet she has some mad skills."

"Whatever," Noah said to himself as he closed the door to the prince's bedroom. The Grand Vizier sighed a bit and walked towards the main door of the antechamber. However, he stopped before he even made it to the center of the room. Something pulled at his curiosity.

Shaking his head at himself, the scrawny teen walked toward the portrait of the deceased Queen Doris.

And what he saw made him gasp in horror.

Where there had been once a portrait of a beautiful young woman was now the image of a homely peasant girl. She was wearing the same gossamer gown that the beautiful Doris had been wearing when her portrait was painted, but her hair which was once full of crimson flowing locks was now just a stringy, dull red that fell flat upon her thin, pointed face and bulbous nose. Her eyes, once a brilliant hazel was now the color of dirt.

'_Surely, this picture had to be a horrible joke or a fake_,' Noah thought. What else could explain the drastic change? But then, the vizier looked closer and discovered that one key element of the portrait was missing.

The ring the queen had famously worn at all times on her finger (_reportedly even more than her own wedding ring_) was missing.

How could a ring just disappear from a painted portrait?

* * *

**Okay, chapter done. Please tell me how you like it. :) Thanks! And I'm going pretty slowly with these chapters, trying to flesh out the characters and introduce new ones in stride. Lol! And I just couldn't have a story without Noah! Thanks again for reading! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, ready for another chappie! Ha! Well here goes! **

**And I wonder... Has anyone besides me written an Izzy vs Eva fight scene yet (it's in this chapter)? I don't know how well I did writing this but an Izzy vs Eva fight scene even in the show would be all kinds of awesome! **

* * *

Dear reader,

Alas, please forgive my extended absence from this historical text. I am afraid I was oversees on an important project, nothing important to worry your minds about, just a few critical discoveries for my superiors... However, I won't bore you with tales of my exotic trip to a faraway land (the lovely waste land of Schooldonia), on to the story!

_Allons-y_!

* * *

**Foreward**

Twenty years before the events of this story, a street urchin stumbled upon a hidden treasure. Astounded by her luck, the street rat made off as much treasure as she could carry, including one object that was especially powerful. Eventually, she discovered the power of what she found, but little did she know that that object belonged to someone else...someone extremely powerful and hideously wicked. However, by the time that powerful and wicked personage had learned that her precious ring had been stolen, the street rat had already been eliminated.

And so the witch began the long search for her missing _Precious_...

* * *

Gwen groaned.

The blue haired servant was bone tired after spending hours scrubbing the palace public toilets. Her clothes were stained with cleaning fluid and some unmentionable gunk _(exactly what that gunk was she felt saner just not knowing_). Usually she would head to the servants' chambers and wait for Awna so they could come up with a few more nasty names for the advisor to make themselves feel better, but today was different. Today, Gwen had to face the fact that someone from her past may have finally come back for her.

The slender young woman paused, then looked around for anyone who may be watching before she put her back against the wall and slid down to the marble floors. Her mind was filled with multiple flashbacks from her past. _How could they have caught up with her?_ She had been so careful to cut all ties with the people she once called family, but somehow one of them had found her way back underneath the same roof as she once again.

Her thoughts fluttered to that fateful night nine years before where she had stood before the Wawanakwan royal palace, splattered with blood that did not belong to her. She'd been spared from the slaughter that had claimed half of her clan, and how she'd found herself in front of that castle, till this day she had no idea. Many questions were asked about the mysterious bloody child found shivering in front of the castle, but Gwen never answered them. Not even her closest friends knew about her past, or what she really was. And Gwen intended to keep it that way.

* * *

Meanwhile, while the blue haired maid was continuing to run from her dark past, Prince Duncan, his right hand man Geoff, and servant Cody were in the middle of a tour of Castle Wawanakwa (_not that the prince cared about castle tours_). The reason why he and his companions were there was that our rebel prince was up to no good of course, and since the last tour of the day usually brought people into normally restricted rooms, this was the perfect chance for the prince to wreak a little havoc just in time for the ball thrown in his and Princess Courtney's honor. If the damage was severe enough, the princess may refuse to marry him!_ He would be freed from this whole rotten deal!_ Duncan smiled to himself.

"And to the left is like the king's official photo room where like he keeps all his best celebrity shots," the busty blonde tour guide chirped. "King Chip always has the most _fantabulous _hair… His hair is even featured in _Mega Monarchs_ magazine, which is like _so _hard to get into and-"

The guide prattled on while Cody, Geoff, and Duncan looked like they wanted to shoot themselves.

"-and the modeling agent was like 60/40, but I was like_ no way_. I can model 24/7. Oh! And next we have the council-war-yelling-a-lot-room-"

"Um, Lady Lindsay," Cody asked. "I'm sure that room is the royal throne room."

"Excuse me, Corey, but I'm the leader here, and I would know where the throne room is. It's right-" Cody however pointed to the obvious sign that read "Royal Throne Room." The blonde looked at the sign and bit her lip. "Oh."

Lindsay the blonde looked troubled for a moment before clapping her hands and saying, "Okay, people. Like, we're moving on now!" She then gingerly turned on her brown cowboy boots and continued down the hall.

"Nice to look at, but a few cards short of a whole deck, huh?" Duncan nudged Geoff.

Geoff grinned a little but quickly whispered back, "We aren't supposed to be here yet. Do you think it's safe to let this chick know who we are? I mean she seems cool or whatever, but still…"

"Look at her. She can't even remember our real names for five minutes. Besides, I'd like to know the layout of this place-just in case."

"Just in case?" Cody whispered, having dropped back from walking beside their clueless castle tour guide. "Dude, w-what's going to happen?"

Duncan smirked and tousled the brunet's hair a little. "Nothing to worry your little head about." Cody raised an eyebrow.

"Hello? Guys! Are you like listening to me?" An impatient Lindsay stamped her foot. "I was just about to show you the ballroom where the prince and princess are going to meet for the very first time. How romantic, right?" She squealed.

"Yeah. I guess-" Cody began, before being interrupted by Duncan yet again.

"Hey," Duncan called. "I'm just going to double back and check out that last room we went into." Before either of his friends could ask, he pulled them to the side. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Keep Clueless over there busy."

"Alright Dennis! Just catch up when you're done!" the blonde answered cheerfully, not noticing the not-so-innocent looks the teens now had on their faces. "Okay people. On to the greenhouse."

"It's blue, but we call it the _**green**_house," she whispered into Cody's ear.

As his wary companions went on with the bubbly tour guide, Duncan hid behind one of the many huge statues of Chris until Lindsay was out of sight. Then he set his eyes upon the open ballroom doors, more specifically on the unguarded punch bowl resting on the table just inside. The prankster prince grinned and patted his bulging right pocket.

* * *

Tyler shifted on his bare iron cot. He'd heard the dungeon door opening, and his heart skipped a beat at the thought of Chef Hatchet coming back in early to finish the job. All of the other remaining prisoners were asleep, and Tyler alone watched as a cloaked figure tiptoed silently across the room.

Thump! _Well maybe not so silently_, Tyler thought to himself. In the dim light, the figure had apparently bumped into the torture table. It hissed and rubbed its backside angrily.

Tyler wasn't dumb. Anyone who was tiptoeing through any room in the dark had to be doing something illegal, especially if that room happened to be a dungeon. _Maybe he was here to break someone out? _The teen wondered. _Maybe he would break me out?_

"Hey!" Tyler hissed. The figure didn't pause.

"_Hey_!" he hissed louder. One of his fellow prisoners let out a loud snore. Both Tyler and the figure froze.

"What do you want?" the dark figure spat. "Can't a girl sneak out of a castle without the third degree?"

"Who are you?" Tyler whispered, coming forward to grab the bars of his cell.

"Why do _you _need to know?" the figure snapped.

"Maybe because if you don't tell me… I'll wake everybody up?" Tyler countered with a smirk.

"No, no, hold on there. You wouldn't want to tell on little old me, would ya?" she chuckled weakly, before pausing. "Wait," the cloaked female said, walking up to the bars of Tyler's cell. "Wait… Don't I know you?"

Tyler backed away.

"Yeah, yeah, I think I do," she continued. "You're that famous athlete, aren't you?"

"W-well, I-I," the brunet stammered.

The figure chuckled a bit. "You are! You're the one who embarrassed the whole country last week at the Olympics. Man, you suck."

Tyler began to turn red. "Look. It was just a few slipups. If they had only let me finish the triathlon-"

"Shh!" the cloaked figure looked around. "Yo, calm down. You wanna wake everybody up? So why they got you in here?"

"Royal Decree 1503," the brunet said bitterly. "No embarrassing the country of Wawanakwa in front of other countries during a international competition."

There was a short silence between the two.

"That's-that's really specific-"

"I know-" Tyler sighed, then paused. Another prisoner had grunted and then rolled onto his side and went back to sleep. For a few moments both held their breath before Tyler began again. "So… why are you sneaking down here? Nobody willingly comes down here to the dungeons."

The figure tensed.

"Aw, come on… If you're desperate enough to come down here, we're kinda in the same boat, aren't we?" Tyler chuckled weakly.

A pause. "You can trust me," the desperate athlete added. Personally Tyler could never keep a secret, but the suspicious figure didn't need to know that. He really needed to get out of there before Chef Hatchet returned. The large chef had threatened to return-with _chickens_!

_The horror_!

The figure sighed. "Alright, I don't know _why _I'm doing this, but… I'm leaving this place because I don't want to be accused of something I didn't do. The guards are looking for a girl with my description, and because of that ball tonight, guards are everywhere. Anyway, I snuck down here because I heard that the back door to this place is unguarded. Is the back door to this place unguarded?"

"Sounds kinda suspicious though. Why not tell them what really happened? If you're innocent, why run?" questioned Tyler.

"Because," the figure answered flatly; Tyler could imagine her glaring at him through the hood of her cloak. "Awnie is having a feeling she won't get a fair trial." She sighed. "You know what? Forget it. I'm going."

She almost got as far as the other chamber door before Tyler called out, "I don't know who told you that, but they were wrong. In fact, there are double the usual amount of guards posted back there." He watched her stop. "But I know a way you can get out of here."

Awna turned around.

"Hey look. The guards are looking for a chick that looks like you, so what happens if we make you not look like you. You'll have a chance to sneak out of here then."

"Who are we?" Awna asked suspiciously.

"I've got an on-again-off again GF, well when she remembers my name," he added. Again Tyler could sense the cloaked female raise an eyebrow at this. "-a-and she has access to a lot of things; she's a noble and an official Castle Wawanakwa tour guide. If you let me out, I'll take you to her."

A pause.

"No tricks?" Awna asked.

"Of course not. No tricks at all." Tyler grinned. "If you don't believe me, look. I'll swear on my sweatband."

The cloaked maid frown, bit her lip, then sighed. "Okay jock boy, where're the keys…"

* * *

"You're not a very good witch, aren't you?" Izzy teased.

"Shut up!" roared a heavy voice. A black wave struck the place where the redhead was floating just a second before, burning a hole into the flowered wallpaper.

Izzy laughed. "You should stick to athletics."

The owner of that heavy voice gritted her teeth. "You're playing with your own death, fairy. I don't know how you got in here-" But before she'd finished her threat, she was cut off by a glancing kick from Izzy. However, the witch was trained in hand-to-hand contact and easily blocked it with her arm.

Izzy was forced to back up, but the witch was vicious. She immediately closed the gap between them and erupted in a flurry of blows. Izzy, no longer smiling, gritted her teeth and concentrated on blocking the witch's attacks. Both began to sweat.

"Is that all you got?" the witch smirked. "My mother can do better than that!"

"Your _mom_-" Izzy breathed. "-is capable of a lot of things, Eva! Bring it!"

The witch, Eva, gasped-almost long enough to leave herself wide open to a blow from Izzy before she knocked it away with her wrist. "How did you know my name?"

Glistening with perspiration, the two broke apart. Izzy grinned then stuck out her tongue.

"Tell me!" Eva roared. "How much do you know?" Another wave of black energy erupted from her hand. Stunned at the sheer speed, Izzy tried to move out it's path, but the wave hit her squarely on the left shoulder, knocking the redhead against the wall.

Eva, ever ruthless, rushed into the cloud of debris formed by Izzy's collision with the wall to finally put the fairy into submission. However when she got there, the fairy was gone. "Wha-" Eva began, before a leg coming out of nowhere appeared, colliding with the back of her neck and knocking Eva out instantly.

The cloud of dust settled, and the heaving form of Izzy appeared, breathing heavily. "Geez, that was close," the redhead sighed. "She almost got me there for a sec." She turned towards the witch, still knocked out cold, and bowed. "You were a formidable opponent, Eva-san, but you were no match for a warrior of my skill."

Honor given, Izzy turned to the sparse bedroom. Apparently the witch was not one for unnecessary frills. For a few minutes the fairy searched for something very important, but that important object was not found. Frustrated, the fairy frowned, and pulled out something small and sparkly red.

"Hey, Zekey! She hasn't found it yet. We've got little time. See you on top of the ballroom by seven. Ninja Warrior Alpha out!"

After delivering her message, Izzy sighed. The redhead had some time to spare before the ball started at seven and suddenly she was bored. And anyone who knew the fairy well knew that interesting things happened when Izzy was bored.

Then an idea popped into the redhead's brain. Slowly, deviously, she looked down upon the prone body of Eva still on the ground. Izzy grinned.

...o.O.o.O.o...

Approximately thirty three minutes later, Eva stirred.

"Ugh…" her head felt like it was rocking back and forth. "What happened?"

Her groggy hazel eyes made out the gaping hole in her wall and suddenly she remembered._ That fairy_! Instinctively Eva flinched, but the redhead was long gone.

Sighing while cursing everything about Izzy, the dark haired witch slowly scrambled to her feet, not noticing the new odd silky feel of her clothing. Her feet suddenly felt different. Her balance was off and it almost seemed as if she was taller than usual, but Eva immediately took it all as a side effect of her concussion.

She tottered over to her nightstand, grumbling over how it seemed as if she was walking on stilts, and crashed down on the stool. Her head still swam, but there were more important things than pain at the moment. _Somehow, someone had found out her true name. The fairy also seemed to know about her mother. Surely, the fairy must also know of what Eva was searching. And how powerful that object was. The clan must know immediately of this! _

Calmly, Eva faced her mirror and began to recite the incantation that would directly connect her to someone of her clan thousands of miles away. The surface of the mirror swirled into a fountain of color, and Eva sat back to watch a face take form from the colorful depths.

"Hi, Eva!" Izzy waved from within the mirror.

Eva's eyes bulged in surprise.

"Oh I know you were going to try to contact your family. Witches are always so predictable, you know? You guys and your big floppy capes and your broomsticks… You crack Izzy up! Hahahaha!" For a brief moment, the fairy stopped to laugh insanely. "Anyway, from now on, you're under my spell. You won't be able to contact your family anymore-"

At this, Eva almost squeaked in disbelief, totally uncharacteristic for the normally stolid and angry witch.

"-And by the way," Izzy continued. "You don't have to thank me for the ball gown. It's on the house. And don't try to take it off. You'll only make it worse." The redhead winked before the mirror cleared. "See ya!"

Eva sat there, shocked and furious, before she really took in what Izzy had said. With the incantation over, the clear mirror now reflected a dark, silky haired maiden in a pale blue sparkly dress-

_A dress? _Eva's mind registered.

A DRESS!

She screamed.

* * *

**Okay guys, Eva is in a dress! Oh the horror for _her_!**

**Tyler is getting busted out of jail!**

**Duncan has done something to the punch bowl.**

**And Gwen has a few dark secrets that she's hiding from everyone.**

**And what about this ring that everyone's looking for?**

**You all will find out later, but there are more mysteries and answers to come. And thanks for reading! **


End file.
